Hey Annemarie, welcome to Lucida! We’re so glad to have you here. Would you mind sharing a little about yourself and how you got into photography?

Thank you for having me! I actually came to photography quite late. I first studied literature and literary theory and later completed a degree in Cultural Studies. Two years ago, I decided to enroll in an evening beginners’ course, Introduction to Photography, at the HCP in Athens. I simply wanted to see what it was like and whether it would speak to me — and it did. Like many people, I juggle work and family life, so the time I can devote to photography is limited.

It looks like a lot of your work is done digitally, is that correct? Do you also dabble in analog photography?

I do not shoot analogue at all, only digital. Analogue photography and darkroom techniques are something I really would love to learn. On the one hand I am waiting for an opportunity to learn this (with money, time and a course magically aligned), on the other hand I am also worried about its ecological impact because I think its footprint is real (chemicals, water etc.). For the moment I only work in digital and use Photoshop for editing but I am really not good at it at all. I have been feeling tired recently. I do not know whether it has to do with my way of working, the project or the digital, so I am just trying out different things, like returning to color but also printing the photos and reworking them. I think I’d like to work more with the material aspect.

Have you taken any formal photography courses or attended any workshops?

I have never studied photography and that is something I really miss. I do not regret studying what I did, as it gave me a broader education that I still draw on, but I feel like I know very little about the medium. I have no technical knowledge at all, but most of all I miss a theoretical framework. My knowledge is too fragmentary to my liking. Apart from the Introduction to photography course, I did a workshop with Antoine d’Agata in the summer of 2025, which had a huge impact on me. He is really a great educator. I would love to do a more serious programme, but living in Greece means the options — and my time and budget — are quite limited.

In what ways does photography influence your perspective on the world around you?

My first thought was “everything” but that definitely needs some qualification! For me the medium certainly functions as a pressure valve which helps me quiet down and channel to some degree the hurricane in my head. It is certainly a means of expression. I am also very interested in reflection on a metalevel. It is one of the reasons I admire the work of Max Pinckers, for instance. I do have, like many artists I suppose, a sort of love-hate relationship with the medium. I often think how much easier my life would be without it, in a way, but the attraction remains of course.

Do you remember your first experiences with photography?

Not really. I actually remember having a small point and shoot camera when I was 10 or so, but it was definitely not something I was pursuing beyond that point. Like most people, I just took snapshots, mostly of my son, on my phone. And then I decided to do the introductory course. I did not know how to use a camera. I did not even have a camera but had to borrow one. For me it really started there. My mother is an art historian and as a child we visited a lot of museums, so subconsciously I probably absorbed certain things about art too, but I knew and I still know very little about photography. For me the photos I made for my series Absence are the first ‘real’ photos I made.

Have you ever thought about organizing your work in a sequence? And do you ever reach out to an editor for assistance?

I rarely sequence my work. I’d love to do a workshop about it and learn more, but I am not sure it exists here in Greece. I think the only layout I ever made was at the end of Antoine d’Agata’s workshop, when the work made there is presented to the public. I think that sort of ‘packed together’ layout reflects my work well at formal level.

I’d love to hear about the inspiration behind your series, “The Stranger I Am.” What were your initial goals or intentions for this project? Also, could you walk us through your creative process?

The project emerged quite organically. Last year I was at a very low point with photography — I had barely produced anything during the entire school year. I had registered for a workshop with Antoine d’Agata during the festival in Arles, and although the project didn’t come from the images made there, it absolutely came from the spirit of that experience. I felt incredibly inspired afterwards and produced a lot of work in the following month.

In Greece I was the foreigner who was sent back to the beginners’ class. In Arles, I was simply accepted as part of the group. The atmosphere was open and mutually supportive, and I felt a kind of liberation I had never experienced before. It didn’t matter where I came from or how inexperienced I was — I was treated as an equal. Being surrounded by others who were also driven was deeply energizing. One of the participants, Sophie-Anne Herin, made extraordinary work — you should look her up if you don’t know her.

When I was sent back to the beginners’ class the year before, I tried to make work like the others, hoping I would eventually be allowed to move on. It was a misguided idea, but the need to belong was stronger than that knowledge. After the workshop in Arles, I no longer wanted to work that way. I decided to make the work I wanted to.

I’ve felt like an outsider for most of my life, but moving to a society that is so different and closed in on itself intensified that feeling. At the same time, my relationship had broken down. Home felt like a domestic prison. I felt as if I had outgrown the life I was living, or no longer fit inside it. I poured all of these feelings into the images.

I didn’t have a specific goal for the project. It was more about finding a way to express this experience — this sense of alienation — and hoping that others might recognise something in it or respond to it in their own way. I also wanted to address the gendered dimension of this experience. Although anyone can feel alienated, I think women are more likely to find themselves in these dead ends, pushed into roles that ultimately don’t fit them.

For me, this is the first project I didn’t have to abandon. It feels like the dark twin of my first series, Absence.

Above: a selection from The Stranger I am

We’d love to hear the story behind your first series, Absence!

I made my first series, Absence, as part of the Introduction to Photography course I took two years ago. (On a small sidenote: a classmate from that course, Madalena Georgatou, continued the project she started then and has taken it very far — her work is definitely worth looking up too!)

For the course we had to produce a project, but I had no idea what that meant or where to begin. So I started photographing the place where I seemed to spend my entire life at that moment: the kitchen. By then it felt quite claustrophobic. I was living abroad, without many real friends, struggling with the language. I worked remotely from home. My relationship had collapsed. The kitchen felt like a kind of domestic prison, partly of my own making.

At the same time, I was fascinated by the light in Greece — especially in winter, in the morning or late afternoon. It’s incredibly intense and beautiful, and it felt fitting for the intensity of what I was experiencing. Almost all the images I made during the four months of the course were taken inside my apartment or on the balcony. Only in the summer did I slowly begin to explore other locations.

In a way, I still regret not being able to continue the project. Maybe one day I’ll return to it.

Above: a selection from Absence

What tips do you have for younger photographers or artists who are eager to dive into photography?

When I first read this question, my immediate reaction was how strange it feels to be asked for advice. I’m not young, I only started photography two years ago, and in these two years I took a year‑long break on top. I have no formal education in the medium. In many ways, this is the question I always want to ask others.

I enjoy the interviews from Small Photobook Cult on YouTube, and this question comes up often. Not long ago I read an answer by Ahndraya Parlato that stayed with me: “I always tell my students that in order to output, you have to input — meaning you have to look, watch, read and do.” That really resonated with me.

Beyond that, I think it’s important to have teachers who are compassionate, encouraging and do not hold you back. And peers matter enormously. I often feel like I’m creating entirely on my own, and I don’t enjoy that. Having people around you — even just a few — who share the same drive and curiosity would make a huge difference.

Thank you again for participating in this interview, Annemarie. It’s been a pleasure!

Thank you!

All Images © Annemarie Deckers

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